


They're coming down the hall

by tjstar



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Blood, Cults, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Meetings, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Social Media, Supernatural Elements, YouTube, josh tries to play cool, tyler walks with a cane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 09:23:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar
Summary: Josh buys a house on the outskirts of Columbus, which turns out to be full of dark secrets. To prove he’s not insane, Josh starts a video blog about paranormal events happening in his new place. One day, he gets a comment from TylerTheSkeptic channel which reads: ‘This is fake.’Josh has never been more disappointed.





	

There’s so many cardboard boxes — Josh can build a fort and live in it till the end of his life. The truck is pulling out of the driveway, leaving Josh surrounded by his neatly packed belongings. His Mom did a great job at helping him with moving from Cleveland to Columbus, but now she’s not there, so Josh has to haul all the boxes into his _new_ house by himself. 

To be honest, this house is not as new as Josh expected it to be, but it has some charm as well as this wonderful living area on the outskirts of the city.

Josh hasn’t met any of his neighbors yet, which is actually good; maybe there are no any old grumblers or curious people who will be prying into his personal life. There’s nothing interesting anyway.

Josh sighs and grabs one of the boxes from the top of this crooked tower; the red letters on the box read: _TABLEWARE (Josh, don’t break it)_.

He loves every moment of it, really.

 

***

His back is going to kill him in the morning as a result of dragging heavy boxes into the hallway and then upstairs, sorting his things and checking the rooms. There are two more bedrooms on the second floor — Josh doesn’t have enough furniture to fill up the emptiness in the rooms. Maybe, he’ll solve this problem later.

When Josh finishes unpacking his things, it’s already 0:40 am; but Josh still has to set up his TV and then do something with the Wi-Fi.

“Alright, dude,” Josh mutters, shoving the plug into a socket. The TV screen greets him with a black and white horror-movie.

It’s better than the silence that’s pressing on Josh’s eardrums.

Josh falls asleep sitting in the red plush armchair in front of the TV, too exhausted to make it to the upstairs bedroom.

 

***

The second night is not that peaceful.

Josh is a pretty anxious person, so he can’t sleep the night before his first workday in the Guitar Center.

Josh is not surprised.

 

***

Josh’s third night is a nightmare.

He wakes up covered in a sheen of cold sweat, with the bedsheets tied up around his neck, crawling across the bed and making Josh choke on his tongue and cough. He wants to grab at the fabric on his throat to loosen the noose, but both of his wrists are pinned down to the mattress.

Josh struggles and tries to kick the air, to fight his enemy, but the lack of oxygen takes over his mind.

In the morning, Josh doesn’t even remember how he ended up lying on the floor, feeling like somebody made an attempt to thrust his Adam’s apple down his throat.

Josh’s boss asks him where he got those bruises.

Josh says he’s just clumsy.

 

***

Somebody is watching him from the corner, Josh forces himself to sleep with the blanket tugged over his head. Josh is sure there are invisible eyes all turned at him when he slips his hand down his pants, lying in the bed.

They are trying to watch him in the bathroom, too. He buys a shower curtain with the sunflowers to hide behind it while he’s jacking off.

It’s rather degrading, but he doesn’t want to be exposed _this_ way.

But he finally gets the Wi-Fi.

 

***

Jordan is the first who sees Them in Their physical form. Josh is having a regular Skype conversation with his brother, sprawling on his bed and sipping his coffee from a giant mug.

Suddenly, Jordan’s eyes go wide.

“Is this a prank or what?” Jordan asks, covering his worried intonation with skepticism.

“What?” Josh adjusts his headphones, confused.

“That dude behind your back,” Jordan points his finger at the screen. “Come on, Josh, I see you have found friends,” he chuckles.

Josh doesn’t understand what his brother is talking about; he turns his head so abruptly his neck crunches, but he doesn’t notice anything suspicious in his room. Well, he convinces himself he doesn’t. He definitely _doesn’t_ see a silhouette in a black robe and a white mask, soaring a few inches above the floor. It was just an optical illusion or Josh’s imagination.

“It disappeared,” Jordan shrugs nonchalantly. “Nice one, Josh.”

“It’s just…” Josh turns his head again, looking around the room.

“Just what?”

“Just nothing,” Josh copies his brother’s shrug.

The chills are creeping down Josh’s back, he’s forced to cocoon himself into the blanket and take a huge gulp of hot coffee. He can’t get rid of the feeling that somebody’s watching him _again_.

 

***

The first time Josh meets one of Them face to face is an utter tragedy. He’s just doing his laundry, running up and down the stairs with the basket. Josh’s mood is rather terrible after the sleepless night; he couldn’t just close his eyes while the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping water into the sink — in silence the sound was equal to a working hammer. At least, for Josh’s delicate ears.

He’s on the third round of going upstairs with the basket full of his freshly washed clothes, when a familiar figure in black robe appears near the door. Josh looks at his feet all the time, so he doesn’t notice his opponent until Their hand pushes him in the chest with a force of a professional strongman.

The blow knocks Josh off his feet; he loses the basket, trying to get a grip onto something, but his soapy fingers seem to be too weak to curl around the railings, and Josh hates the gravity so, so much. He lands onto his back, smashing the side of his head against the wooden stair.

Josh’s blurred vision catches a white emotionless mask, staring him down. Then, his consciousness leaves him.

 

***

The first thing Josh realizes as he wakes up is that he’s still alive. His chest throbs with the hot pain, and his back hurts as if he’s lying on the rocks, but he’s definitely survived the head-on collision with whatever it was.

The second thing Josh becomes aware of is that he can’t turn his head. He tries to, really, but his head weights a ton, and the splitting headache promptly reaches the level of an unbearable one. When Josh lifts his hand to try and set the halves of his skull together, he finds his left wrist swollen in addition to his already discovered injuries.

“Shit,” Josh exhales angrily.

His body protests when he scrambles to sit up; but Josh considers himself a pretty stubborn person, so he manages to get up on his feet without breaking more of his bones.

He’s kind of happy to wake up in _his_ basement, and not in an ice bath missing a kidney. Josh kicks the laundry basket like it’s the reason for his troubles and promptly clamps his palms over his ears to muffle the sound.

The next thought that pops up in Josh’s brain makes his nape hair stand on end. _He’s probably just gotten robbed._

Josh rushes upstairs not bothering about taking his clean clothes scattered all over the floor in the basement.

 

***

Josh appears in Guitar Center sporting the caked blood in his red messy hair and a thick layer of bandage wrapped around his sprained wrist.

“What the fuck?” Jack, his co-worker, gasps.

Every inch of Josh’s skin hurts. He tries to convince himself he’s just being overdramatic.

“Kinda slipped, kinda fell,” Josh mumbles.

“Impressive,” Jack says, kindly providing his chair to Josh.

Josh winces when Jack turns on the flashlight on his phone and brings it up to Josh’s face.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Josh resents, trying to get out of Jack’s grip.

“Checking your pupils,” Jack responds.

“I don’t have a concussion,” Josh protests weakly.

“Josh,” Jack raises his hands in defeat. “Please, do me a favor — go to hospital. I’ll cover you up, okay?”

Josh didn’t have a chance to look at the mirror in the morning when he woke up; maybe, he looks worse than he thought. But he doesn’t want to lose this job.

“I can still work,” Josh says.

“Hospital. Now,” Jack leads him back to the door.

Josh wonders why his new life hates him so much.

 

***

He doesn’t go to hospital; instead, he goes to the nearest home appliances shop and buys a camera. If They can physically hurt Josh, it means Josh can catch them off guard with his incredible filming skills.

 

***  

Josh doesn’t actually know what the video blogging is, but he guesses he has to look attractive, at least. It’s hard to look attractive when the bags under his eyes gradually turn to bruises, but Josh has to keep his chin up. He throws on his red and black plaid shirt, ruffles his red curls and just improvises — Josh sits in front of the camera and tries to perform a coherent speech.

Josh repeats it in his head for the third time and presses the REC button.

“Hi, I’m… my name is Josh, and I think I bought a haunted house. Well, I’m not seeking for attention, I just want to show you something… Well. I don’t have anything to show you at the moment, but I’ll try, and maybe somebody will believe me,” Josh shakes his head. It’s terrible.

He deletes the recording and tries again.

“Hey guys. I’m Josh, and there’s some creepy shit happening in my new house,” Josh explains, holding the camera in his outstretched hands. “I look like shit now, because something knocked me out a while ago,” Josh gets up from the table and goes down the hallway. “Now I’m gonna show you where it happened,” he catches the basement door in the focus as he slowly moves towards the ‘crime scene.’

“Somebody was standing here,” Josh says, taking the first step downstairs. “It pushed me, I fell and smashed my head,” Josh turns the camera lens to his face again. “Here,” his fingers run over the scratch on his head. “I’m not sure if you guys can see it, but it hurts, believe me,” he chuckles.

He goes to the basement, filming the clothes on the cement floor, the brown stains of his already dried blood near the stairs.

“I was lying here,” Josh sighs. “And something was there, too,” he adds. “But maybe I just hit my head, yeah, I definitely hit my head. Anyway, I’m starting this blog mostly for myself.”

Josh roams the basement aimlessly, going to the washing machine in the corner, peeking into the boxes with his still unpacked tableware and filming it just in case.

Josh knows that his first video is shitty.

No one is going to watch it anyway.

“Alright. I hope They won’t kill me tonight,” Josh fakes a smile, looking at the camera again. “Stay safe. And goodbye!” he shows a peace sign and turns the camera off.

Being in the basement without an invisible interlocutor is scary. Josh quickly shoves his things into the laundry basket and hurries to get back to his bedroom.

“I’m a failure,” Josh admits. This satisfies him somehow.

Honestly, he doesn’t know why he uploads the video on the YouTube. Josh’s channel name is weird, he thinks — ‘spooky jim’, who on Earth is going to believe a channel with this name?! But Josh doesn’t want to change anything. He likes this name, likes the alien icon, he’s filming and uploading videos just for himself.

Spooky jim’s first video’s title is ‘i think my house is haunted’, video length: 5:43.

Not bad.

 

***

Josh spends the day suffering from a headache, drifting in and out of a fitful sleep. He wakes up in the evening, shrouded in the cobweb of transparent haze; the lights in his bedroom are still on.

He reaches for his laptop and checks his profile, not expecting to see something interesting. Though, he has 65 views and 2 comments. Josh scrolls through it, preparing himself for any insults he’s about to see.

**anaasomnia:**

_hes cute_

**MessageMan:**

_The shadow in the corner at 3:42 nice try lol_

Josh bites his lip, re-playing his video and skipping it to 3:42; he sees himself, tripping over the clothes on the floor and showing the drops of blood there. Then, Josh freezes and stares at the screen, pausing the video — there’s one more shadow in the basement except his own. There’s a dark silhouette, for like three seconds, hanging from the ceiling and swaying sideways. Josh didn’t pay attention on it when he was filming.

Josh’s legs are trembling, but the fact he’s spotted a ghost on camera encourages him even though Josh is so anxious he feels the barbed wire tying around his neck.

There’s definitely going to be a part two of Josh’s adventures in his house.

 

***

Wandering his house at nights is Josh’s brand new hobby.

This leaves him feeling like an utter shit in the mornings, but Josh can’t fall asleep anyway. The invisible eyes on the walls are devouring Josh with their gaze.

He films his second video six days later, as soon as he learns more about the quirks his house has. This time, he catches a black figure in the kitchen, sitting under the table and waiting for it purposefully. Josh doesn’t even say anything on camera, he just presses his back against the wall, holding the camera between his knees. He’s not in the best position for filming it, and the night vision is definitely going to distort the picture, but it doesn’t bother Josh when a phantom crosses the kitchen in a few feet away from Josh’s hiding place.

It soundlessly moves towards Josh; Josh pulls his knees to his chest, still clutching the camera and catching the Shadow in focus. It stays still for a second before continuing to make its way towards the table.

The only source of light is a street lamp, but Josh can see the figure clearly.

Josh bites his bottom lip not to yell.

He crosses his ankles no prevent them from poking from under the table.

Something falls in the living room, the sound of the smashing glass hits through Josh’s ears; he can still see the black robe in front of him, and the thought that the figure might bend over and _look_ at him makes the goosebumps crawl all over his skin like spiders.

Josh is trapped.

The ghost just stands beside the table.

Josh’s body is shaking so hard he thinks it might cause an earthquake.

And then the ghost just disappears without a trace.

Josh pauses the recording and sits under the table for a minute, getting ready for the return of the phantom, but nothing happens.

Josh presses REC again.

“Now I’m gonna try and run for the light switch,” Josh whispers, afraid he might beckon the _evil_ again. “I have a flashlight,” he squeezes it in his sweaty hand. “And I’m gonna use it.”

His thumb presses the button, a thick ray of light slashes the darkness in the kitchen; Josh lurches forward and peeks out from under the table. Nothing.

So, Josh gets up on his feet and runs to the wall, slamming his hand into a light switch and causing a jarring pain in his injured wrist. The light pours from the ceiling; the figure in the black robe is nowhere to be found.

Then, he decides to go into each room and turn the lights on. When he enters the living room though, he realizes he’s gotten himself into troubles — his TV is lying on the floor, surrounded by the pieces of broken glass, the plastic is crumpled like a paper and a little melted at the edges.

He should’ve expected this — They will never stop landing the punches.

 

***

Josh uploads the video ‘my house is DEFINITELY haunted’ with the description ‘sorry for the bad quality i was about to shit my pants :(’. It gets 216 views within 24 hours.

It also gets comments.

**MessageMan:**

_I bet it was this dude’s friend_

**Anathemaofficial:**

This looks pretty real.

**overdramaticpunkk:**

_cool cnt wait fr the part 3_

**Use Your Brain:**

_Wtf is this guy doing on the YouTube? He doesn’t even know how to hold a camera. 8 minutes of shit._

And the one comment which makes Josh want to slam his fist into the screen.

**TylerTheSkeptic:**

_This is fake._

At first, Josh wants to reply ‘no, it’s not’ but then he decides to just ignore this smartass Tyler. Josh can agree with the statement that his video is _shit_ , but not with the statement that his video is _fake_.   

He opens the page of Tyler’s channel in a new tab to make sure Tyler is just a grumpy user who doesn’t make his own content. Though, a perfect picture in Josh head crumbles as soon as he scrolls through the videos on TylerTheSkeptic channel.

Shit.

This dude explains and analyses the weird YouTube channels and creepy videos; Josh cringes, noticing the word FAKE in every title. There are also couple horror-games letsplays. TylerTheSkeptic has tens of thousands views and hundreds comments.

And he literally calls Josh a liar.

Josh wants to drive him into a corner and beat the skepticism out of him.

Later, it turns out that Tyler isn’t going to just leave Josh alone with his demons. Josh just wants to check his notifications on Twitter, but the icon of a direct message kind of pokes him in the eye. Josh clicks on it and regrets he linked his YouTube account to Twitter.

**Direct messages with: Tyler Joseph**

_I want to make a video about your ‘haunted’ house._

Josh doesn’t feel like messaging with a guy who’s wearing a red balaclava. What a weird userpic.

_no_

It will be enough for Tyler.

_Why? I think it would be fun. Well, for me._

Little sarcastic shit, Josh thinks. His nerves are flaring up, he’s now forced to sleep with the lights on all around the house, and this dude is still mocking him.

Josh wishes he could attach a punch to his next message.

_i don’t need you in my house_

Tyler replies almost immediately.

_Gonna continue to fool people?_

Josh blocks him without a twinge of guilt.

 

***

The next four days Josh lives suspecting that the volcano beside him is about to erupt. The light is Josh’s only savior — he’s brave in the mornings, nearly laughing at the shadows’ invisible faces, but at nights Josh turns to a terrified kid, hiding from the monsters under the blanket.

Josh knows he pissed the phantoms off.

**MessageMan:**

_Dude are you still alive?_

Josh doesn’t respond the comment.

They’re going to catch him as soon as the lights go off.

Josh nearly drops his laptop on the floor when the knocking at the front door interrupts the flow of his thoughts.

Josh isn’t sure if the shadows can knock like this.

It’s Sunday, early in the morning, and Josh thinks he can just buy a ticket and visit his family in Cleveland or something like that.

He carefully goes down the stairs and straight to the door to meet his uninvited guest. Josh doesn’t think he looks friendly as he pushes the door open, nearly smacking somebody on the front porch.

“How can I help you?” he mutters sheepishly as he sees the guy behind the door.

Blue button-up shirt, black skinny jeans, sunglasses, and a… cane in his hand? The guy also has a black backpack and a very concerned look on his face.

“It’s you,” the guy says, satisfied.

Josh rubs his bleary eyes, still in his grey pajama pants and a ratty t-shirt with a huge hole near the collar. Not the best look to throw a party.

“I’m Tyler.”

Josh crosses his arms over his chest, getting ready to protect his house from the annoying youtuber.

“How did you find me?” Josh asks with a poorly concealed irritation.

Tyler taps the end of his cane on the wooden floorboards.

“Your Twitter is a treasure, man. I found a picture of this house in your media files and wow, magic, I’m here,” Tyler says, looking over Josh’s shoulder. “But you just blocked me, so sad. I cried,” he adds quizzically.

“Where are you from? From Hell?” Josh lets out a groan.

“From the opposite side of Columbus, actually,” Tyler replies innocently. “I drove here to inspect your house.”

With that, he just sneaks into the gap between Josh’s shoulder and the doorframe. Josh would just kick the guy out, but the way Tyler walks with a limp, leaning on the black cane, doesn’t let Josh resort to such drastic measures.

Tyler takes his sunglasses off and clips them on the chest pocket of his shirt. Josh didn’t have a single thought that TylerTheSkeptic could have such a cute face…

“You never show your face in your videos,” Josh says.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a face,” Tyler responds with a huff.

…but he’s definitely a bad-tempered person.

“So, you watched my videos? I’m flattered,” Tyler adds in an indifferent tone.

Well, Josh might have watched three or four of Tyler’s videos where he was talking about the abandoned YouTube channels like Elastic Spastic Plastic Fantastic.

“What are you going to do here?”

Josh keeps following Tyler when he crosses the hallway, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and taking pictures of the walls and floor and windows.

“Where’s the kitchen?” Tyler whips around, nearly hitting Josh’s ankle with his cane.

“Here,” Josh waves his hand towards the door.

“Good,” Tyler nods, hobbling in that direction. “Wow, TV is an evil,” he smirks as he passes by the broken TV.

“Something pushed it off the table,” Josh explains. He has to bite his tongue not to ask what happened to Tyler’s leg.

“Of course,” Tyler rolls his eyes.

Josh really wants to smirk when Tyler stumbles, but instead he just grabs him by the shoulders to keep him upright.

“Don’t touch me, okay?” Tyler squirms immediately, entering the kitchen and going to the table where Josh was sitting during that fateful night.

Tyler stomps his foot on the floor, then scratches the back of his head, measuring the distance between the table and the kitchen sink with this cane. He takes a picture of Josh’s kitchen and crouches down, looking at the floor.

“I’m gonna start filming tonight,” Tyler decides, tracing his finger down the deep scrapes on the parquet.

“No, you’re gonna go back home,” Josh responds patiently.

Tyler is forced to grip at the edge of a kitchen counter to pull himself up on his feet.

“I’m staying,” he says firmly. “And you’ll have to show me the basement and the other rooms,” Tyler bends to pick his cane and winces in pain. “Please,” he adds.

This ‘please’ probably breaks some of the ice between them; Josh feels almost sorry for Tyler when he rubs his right knee a little too long for it to be normal.

“Are you okay man?” Josh eyes the band tattoos on Tyler’s left arm.

“Yeah,” Tyler says, straightening to his full height. “I’ll bring some equipment from my truck, wait a minute,” he heads back to the front door.

Josh sighs heavily and plods after him; he wants to just sit in the kitchen and drink a gallon of hot coffee to fight off the drowsiness, but instead he just helps Tyler carry two boxes with his equipment into the house. Tyler is probably planning on a great investigation.

“Well, let’s start,” Tyler perks up, rubbing his palms. “I’m gonna make a sneak-peek video about my plans and then we’re filming our preparation for the operation ‘Haunted house’,” Tyler is already rummaging in the box.

“Dude, wait,” Josh covers his face with his hands when Tyler aims the camera at him. “Let me like, dress up, brush my teeth, eat my breakfast? You can’t just break into my house and make the rules!” Josh snaps, unable to hold his anger back. “I know you can’t wait to tell your 30 thousands of subscribers that I’m a shitty liar, but I’m like, a human with my human needs? Thank you so fucking much for listening!” 

Josh just hurries to the bathroom, leaving Tyler frozen with the camera in his hands.

 

***

“Hey guys, I’m Josh, and TylerTheSkeptic is my camera man today,” Josh waves his hand in greeting.

“I’m not your camera man, I’m an independent expert,” Tyler corrects him gloomily.

“…and Tyler is my independent camera man,” Josh flashes a sincere smile.

Tyler flips him off with his free hand.

“Do I look good, Tyler?” Josh asks, running his ringers through his red messy mohawk.

“I like you so much better when you’re naked,” Tyler backchats.

Josh tugs at the hem of his sweatshirt with a cat print.

“Are we going to cut this moment out?” Josh is so full of useless hopes.

Tyler _giggles_ behind the camera.

“No.”

They’re sitting in the bedroom and trying to film their first video, but Tyler’s specific sense of humor kills Josh’s self-confidence.

“Alright, now we’re gonna show you what we have there,” Tyler turns the camera to his laptop. “Now we can watch what’s happening in the kitchen, bedrooms, living room or in the bathroom, here, we have a live translation from the security cameras I installed,” Tyler explains, pointing his finger at the screen. “Josh doesn’t let me turn the lights off, but I’m gonna do this anyway; all the cameras have a night vision, and that’s exactly what we need,” Tyler suddenly turns the lens back to Josh. “Josh, say you’re proud of me.”

“I’d prefer to work with this case alone,” Josh mumbles, avoiding Tyler’s gaze.

“So, it’s getting dark, let’s take a short walk down the hall,” Tyler swings his legs over the side of the bed. “And turn the lights off.”

Josh thinks he has to join Tyler, because Tyler leaves his cane lying beside the bed, and Josh doesn’t want him to fall down a flight of stairs and break his neck. Josh doesn’t need another restless ghost in his house.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea though,” Josh says when Tyler turns the lights off in the kitchen, filming the process. The darkness entombs everything on their path, and Josh can swear he sees something small sliding past him on the periphery.

Tyler doesn’t even notice that.

“Now, we’re going to bathroom, then to the living room and then we’re going back to the bedroom,” he keeps talking to the invisible audience.

Josh begins to think Tyler is just paranoid.

 

***

Tyler refuses to edit the video, arguing that he wants to be honest with his beloved subscribers. Though, Josh doesn’t remember giving Tyler a permission to upload the video on TylerTheSkeptic channel.

“It’s kinda cold there,” Tyler says, tucking his hands under his armpits. “Is the heater broken or something?”

“No, but this happens too often, I told you,” Josh points out. “I can give you a sweater if you want.”

“Thanks. I have some spare clothes there,” Tyler kicks his black backpack with his toe. “I also have RedBull not to fall asleep. And yeah — you can pretend I don’t exist, feel free to do your things,” Tyler shrugs, peering into the laptop screen.

“See something?” Josh asks curiously.

“Nah, just some shadows,” Tyler replies nonchalantly.

“Shadows?”

The fear throws a lasso over Josh’s neck and starts to tug at the free end of the rope.

“Come on, don’t tell me they’re ghosts,” Tyler chuckles. “Ninety percent of paranormal footages are just photomontage, don’t be so superstitious.”

“And what about the other ten percent?” Josh gets a little interested.

“Fake videos that have never been uploaded,” Tyler deadpans.

The next two hours they’re just spending the time with their laptops and not even saying a word to each other; then, Tyler reports that the camera in the bathroom isn’t working.

“Josh, all it shows is a white noise, and I’m going to go and fix it,” Tyler says, sitting up on the bed and stretching.

Josh is on the fifth page of the article about haunted houses all around the world.

“Do you want me to go with you?” he asks.

“No, I can do it by myself,” Tyler snorts.

“Good luck,” Josh responds on autopilot.

Forgetting to blink, he just keeps reading while Tyler leaves the bedroom.

 

***

It’s been fifteen minutes, and Tyler still hasn’t come back. The nervousness begins to circulate in Josh’s veins as he tries to distract himself reading comments below Tyler’s recently uploaded video ‘Discovering the ‘haunted’ house with the owner’.

It doesn’t look great, it doesn’t sound great, and Josh scrunches up his nose, contemplating his sleepy self on the screen.

It has 2512 views and 176 likes.

The comment section is on fire.

**The Amazing Brendon:**

_They found each other. They have a camera in their bedroom. I am living._

Josh doesn’t want to be a part of the ship.

**overdramaticpunkk:**

_#tylershowusyourface_

Below, there are at least forty comments containing this hangtag. Josh is kind of pleased that he already knows the way Tyler looks.

Meanwhile, Tyler is still _somewhere_ , but not in Josh’s bedroom. The security camera in the bathroom is still not working. Josh closes his laptop and gets out of the bed, stepping his socked foot onto Tyler’s black cane lying abandoned on the floor beside the bed. This makes Josh even more worried; he storms out of the room, running to the bathroom that is on the same floor.

Josh passes by two empty rooms with the closed doors, wondering if Tyler could go and film something inside one of them.

The bathroom door is not even locked; Josh enters the room, blindly reaching his hand for the light switch and hearing a groan full of pain. The lightbulb reluctantly lights the room up, revealing Tyler’s skinny frame on the floor.

“Oh shit,” Josh cusses.

Tyler stirs on the floor.

“What happened?” Josh’s words are drowning in vacuum that makes his chest feel tight.

Tyler looks pretty disoriented. He props himself up with his elbows, looking up at Josh. Tyler’s phone is lying near the bathtub.

“Somebody attacked me. As soon as I walked in, I don’t know, I was filming all the way down there,” Tyler blurts out. “I hurt my knee.”

Josh hunches over him to hear his words, because Tyler cuts himself off with a… Josh is pretty sure it’s a whimper, but Tyler pretends he’s just clearing his throat.

“Can you like, get up? Did you hit your head?” Josh asks. Head injuries are always the worst.

“I think I just blacked out from the pain in my leg,” Tyler says. He lingers, taking his phone and putting it back into his pocket.

Josh is eager to leave this damned bathroom and just get back under the covers.

“Get up,” Josh sighs sympathetically.

And Tyler tries to, he really does but lands on his ass when his right leg connects with the floor. Tyler _howls_ in pain.

“Hey? Hey, what’s wrong?”

Tyler shoves his fist into his mouth to strangle his cry, eyes screwed shut.

“God, did you break your leg?!” Josh exclaims.

Tyler shakes his head.

“I can’t bend it,” he whispers, hands clamping over his right kneecap.

Tyler doesn’t ask for help though.

“Alright,” Josh hooks his hands under Tyler’s armpits. “Don’t strain your right leg, try to shift your weight on the left one. I’ll lift you up on the count of ‘three’, deal?”

Tyler nods obediently.

“Cool. One… two…” Josh can tell that Tyler braces himself for the bout of an inevitable pain. “Three,” he yanks Tyler up, earning a half-pained, half-surprised exhale.

Josh trips over the cracked tiles; Tyler clings to the edge of a bathtub.

“Shit, we’ll never get outta here,” Josh groans.

He just swings right his arm underneath Tyler’s knees and holds his back with the left one.

“No, don’t…” Tyler protests weakly as Josh gingerly carries him out of the bathroom.

“You don’t even have a cane,” Josh scolds him, shuffling down the hallway not to bump into Them.

“I forgot,” Tyler mutters. A few seconds later he gives up and wraps his arms around Josh’s neck.

Tyler’s not heavy, so Josh gets him in the bedroom pretty quickly.

“Here, I can give you a pillow to prop your leg up,” Josh coos, laying Tyler on the bed. “Do you need some ice?”

Tyler lurches forward, palms rubbing his knee again. It’s radiating with heat through the fabric of his jeans.

“Don’t be shy, I have frozen peas in the kitchen,” Josh says enthusiastically.

“This was worse than getting kicked in the balls,” Tyler drawls.

“Yeah. Don’t go anywhere,” Josh sticks his forefinger out.

Tyler shoots him a death glare.

With that, Josh goes to the kitchen (turning the lights in the living room and in the hallway on) and grabs a plastic pack of frozen vegetables from the fridge.

By the time he gets back, Tyler has already calmed down and half-lies on the bed with his laptop on his chest.

“I took painkillers,” Tyler says. “And they will knock me out really soon.”

He takes the pack gratefully, placing it over his knee and visibly relaxing.

“You have RedBull,” Josh shrugs.

“I’m not making that mistake again,” Tyler’s lips twitch. “I discovered that RedBull doesn’t stay down along with the pills. Still remember that taste, ew,” he winces in disgust. “Why do I always hit my knee on everything? Why did I forget my elastic bandage? Shit, why am I so stupid?!” Tyler grabs fistful of his brown hair and begins to pull, covering his face with his forearms.

“Hey, hey, calm down, man. Life is unfair — one day I broke my hand and got kicked out of the rock-band, I was a drummer, you know. I still love drums though. My curiosity is a bitch, but…” Josh bites his lip. “What happened to you?”

Tyler makes a grunting noise with the back of his throat.

“A car crash,” he says grudgingly. “I lost control, wrapped my car around the tree, and…” Tyler begins to pick at his fingernails, hesitating. “They had to cut me out of a pile of metal, I don’t remember much of it. I had an internal bleeding and was a bit preoccupied with spewing the blood out of my mouth,” Tyler’s lips curl into the saddest smile Josh has ever seen. “The surgeons had to collect my leg like a puzzle. An open fracture, cracked kneecap, torn ligaments, name it and I had to deal with it, I guess. I thought I was going to lose the sensitivity in my lower leg, but it’s probably gonna hurt even when I die,” Tyler finishes, either talking to himself or to Josh.

Tyler’s story shocks Josh; the way he talks about it, like it had happened to somebody else, his dull and emotionless voice with the hint of well-concealed tears in his intonation. Josh can even feel a ghost of pain in his own leg, spiraling down his ankle.

“When had that happened?” Josh spits the question out before he manages to pull himself together.

“Three years ago,” Tyler says. “I’ve had two surgeries on my leg with re-breaking the bone and stuff. At least, I avoided the amputation,” Tyler jerks his shoulder involuntarily.

The ice melts, leaving a wet stain on Tyler’s pant leg; Josh carefully flips the pack over so the cooler side can contact with Tyler’s knee.

“Does it always hurt that bad?”

Josh thinks he has to bring one more icepack.

“No, it’s…” Tyler scrapes his neck with a frown. “I hit it on the table in the morning. And then something kicked me in your bathroom- I mean, I smashed my knee on something,” he corrects himself quickly.

“You said you filmed it?”

“Yeah,” Tyler whips his phone out of the pocket. “Not sure though.”

Tyler’s hand shakes a little as he presses ‘play’. Josh is sitting right next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

The first forty seconds of the video is just a dark hallway, Tyler’s footsteps and his quiet humming; then, the camera catches Tyler’s hand turning the handle as he enters the bathroom. Then, Tyler falls forward, throwing his hand in front of him and moaning as his body collides with the sink and then with the floor. The screen goes black for a second, Tyler’s muffled cursing is mixed with the ominous noise coming somewhere from above him. Tyler turns his camera to the sound, letting out a loud yelp at the same time.

There’s the white face, with black sunken eyes that look like empty sockets, and a hideous smile splits the face in two. The figure stands stock-still, a second, two, three, then beginning to move towards Tyler. Tyler’s breathing becomes erratic, pumping through the speaker; the figure is still within the eyeshot when Tyler drops his phone on the floor. And then, he screams like a dying animal.

“The pain was so sharp I passed out,” Tyler explains. “I have no clue who could cut short the recording.”

Josh looks at Tyler like he’s just raised from the dead.

They’re real.

They’re in Josh’s house.

They nearly killed Josh and then Tyler.

Josh craves to pack his bags and decamp to Cleveland.

“Josh,” Tyler’s voice shakes as he speaks. “We have to upload the video.”

Josh nods his head vigorously.

 

***

Josh lets Tyler sleep on his half of the bed.

Josh even takes a picture of him, hoping Tyler won’t kill him for it later.

The video ‘SOMETHING ATTACKED TYLER’ uploaded on Josh’s channel doesn’t prove anything; it gets some stupid comments like ‘Josh was that dude in the mask’, and well, Josh should’ve expected that.

Josh has a morning shift, but he doesn’t want to look like shit again; he hides under the blanket, carefully, not to jar Tyler’s injured leg, and imagines he’s in his parents’ house, safe and sound.

It always helps him make it through the roughest nights.

 

***

“I still can’t believe you had to carry me bridal style,” Tyler smirks, pouring milk in the bowl of cereal.

It’s morning, and honestly, Josh can’t wait to leave the house and go to work. Tyler says he’s going to get back home until the evening; Josh doesn’t want him to stay alone in the house as much as he doesn’t want him to drive alone the whole time.

“How’s your knee?” Josh asks politely.

“Numb,” Tyler shrugs. He fumbles with the black plastic handle of his cane, promptly pushing it to the chair when Josh comes closer to him.

“You can tell me if it still hurts.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Alright,” Josh claps his hands and turns back to the table. “Eat your breakfast and let’s go.”

“You act like my Mom,” Tyler grumbles, plunging the spoon into the soppy cereal.

“How old are you, by the way?”

Last night, Josh tried to find Tyler’s personal information but his efforts haven’t been crowned with success.

“I’m twenty-five,” Tyler replies. He sits on the kitchen counter next to the sink, filled with dishes.

Josh finds himself staring at Tyler’s obviously swollen knee.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tyler’s fuming over his own thoughts. “I know what you’re thinking about, like ‘oh this dude was so young when the crash happened, his basketball career is ruined, and now he’s going to live like an invalid the rest of his worthless life’. Am I right?”

“No, I um,” Josh is a little stumped by Tyler’s sudden anger. “I was just going to say I’m twenty-five too. I’m turning twenty-six in two months.”

“Great, I’ll send you a Birthday card,” Tyler quips.

Josh forces a breath through his clenched teeth.

Tyler smirks again.

 

***

He counts the hours until the end of his shift; he and Tyler are planning to go for one more round of filming this night.

Josh can feel Jack’s heavy gaze on his back as he runs to the nearest bus stop, nearly getting hit by the approaching bus. He’s kind of excited about meeting Tyler again.

When Josh goes towards his house, he can already see Tyler standing on the front porch and chatting to a blonde girl in a floral dress and a straw hat.

Josh has never met her before.

“Hello,” Josh greets her with a smile. “I’m Josh.”

The girl smiles back at him.

“Oh yes, Tyler have already told me,” the girl cackles softly. “Jenna,” she introduces herself.

The corner of Tyler’s mouth twitches upwards.

Jenna’s blue eyes are very, very sad.

“The beast smells the blood,” Jenna syllables as if she reads the prophecy. “The unbeliever dies first.”

There’s nothing optimistic in her tone.

“What?” Josh and Tyler ask in unison.

“Be careful,” Jenna presses her forefinger to her lips.

With that, she whips around and hurries to the well-maintained house on the opposite side of the street.

“You’ve got such weird neighbors,” Tyler states.

Josh can’t disagree. 

 

***

It’s raining, the flows of water hit the rooftop as the wind forces it to leak through the windows, even though they are closed. Josh is holding the camera and a flashlight while Tyler takes on a red balaclava, getting ready to film the next part of their big show.

“Tree, two, one, start,” Josh counts, pressing REC.

Tyler turns to the camera.

“Hey folks, it’s Tyler, and no- I haven’t died yet,” he greets his audience. “We’re still in Josh’s house as you can notice. So, our plans for tonight are: watching the videos from the security cameras, exploring the empty bedrooms and trying to talk to the spirits,” Tyler rubs his chin. “I mean, there are no spirits, of course, but we can try, at least.”

Tyler’s back is all Josh can see in front of him, he’s almost unnoticeable in the dark in his black hoodie and jeans. His red ski mask and red socks look weirdly bright as Josh films Tyler’s lanky body disappearing around the corner. Josh follows Tyler down the hall and brushes off some of the gloom with the yellow ray of a flashlight.

“You have to change the name of your channel from TylerTheSkeptic to TylerTheBeliever,” Josh teases him.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Jishwa,” Tyler immediately bristles at Josh’s innocent offer.

Josh aims the camera at his face.

“Breaking news: Tyler hasn’t had sex for ages, that’s why he’s being a dick,” Josh reports with a tone of the TV announcer.

He’s sure the furious blush on Tyler’s cheeks makes his red balaclava even redder.

“Then shut up and satisfy my needs,” Tyler mumbles.

“Gladly,” Josh laughs wholeheartedly.

People are already shipping them, Josh has nothing left to lose. Josh watches the pattern of long shadows dancing across the walls, swaying and reaching their gnarled fingers towards him. This trivial scene from a low-budget horror-movie literally makes Josh pull away in fright.

He doesn’t want to feed his imagination.

Josh watches Tyler’s silhouette passing through the dark, heading to the stairs to take his camera from the living room. Tyler’s walk is still a bit unsteady, though he refuses to use his cane on the video.

Josh wonders what it’s like to live with the pain sinking its fangs in your leg with every step. Tyler is probably much braver than he thinks he is.

“So,” Tyler steps back into the focus of the camera. “I don’t see anything paranormal there,” he takes his device from the couch where he left it.

“Let’s just sit down and wait, I don’t know,” Josh shrugs, pressing the pause button.

“I want to go in the basement,” Tyler protests.

“Dude,” Josh sighs. “You need to sit down. I’m not going to drag your ass upstairs when something happens to your leg again.”

“Yeah, sure, keep insulting me,” Tyler slumps down into the couch.

“I’m not insulting you.”

“Really?”

The rain keeps rustling against the roof, the transparent curtains begin to flutter as the gust of wind smacks the tree branch on the window. It’s like the storm is trying to tear the house off the ground; Josh shivers while Tyler inspects the video they have just filmed.

“Josh, look,” Tyler elbows Josh’s side, handing him a camera. “Here.”

“What?.. What?!” Josh feels the spikes of fear coursing through his brain and limbs as he sees the fragment Tyler is showing him.

It’s exactly that moment where they’re altercating about Tyler’s intimate life; it turns out they weren’t alone all that time. A tall figure in a black loose robe and a white mask was chasing Tyler when he was walking down the hall. It appeared for a couple seconds right behind Tyler’s back and then dissipated, joining the ligature of shadows on the wall.

“See?” Tyler whispers.

Josh nods silently.

They might be anywhere right now.

The bright lightning explodes outside the window, followed by the growing downpour. The sweat on Josh’s temples crystallizes to the tiny diamonds of ice.

The floorboards on the second floor begin to creak.

“I’m gonna check it,” Tyler gets up from the couch.

“Tyler, it’s fucking dangerous, why don’t you understand?!” Josh exclaims, forgetting about his mental promise to keep silent.

Josh tries to snatch the back of Tyler’s hoodie, but Tyler slaps his hand. He grabs the camera and hurries to the stairs, limping a little but keeping up the façade for Josh.

“It’s stupid,” Josh grumbles, a very, very uneasy feeling settles in the pit of his stomach.

Tyler slows down on the last step, Josh is literally covering Tyler’s back as the best partner ever he is. A squeaky sound grows louder.

“It’s probably a robber,” Tyler assumes.

Josh lets out a short nervous giggle.

Tyler turns the camera on, tiptoeing to the source of the sound. Josh gulps down his unspoken curses and follows him on wobbly legs; he’s ready to see a figure in the hallway, but there’s nothing. Like, absolutely nothing.

Josh’s palm is so wet he might lose the flashlight at any second.

“Where are they?” Tyler asks loudly. “You know, I watched a video about the dude who spotted on camera a homeless woman in his house. She’d been living between the walls for like three months and stealing his food. Is somebody stealing your food, Josh?”

“You,” Josh spits out.

Tyler is certainly about to backtalk, but the scrunching noise coming from the empty bedroom draws his attention; Josh wants to just scoop Tyler up in his hands and manhandle him out of the house.

“Tyler, no,” Josh nearly begs as Tyler walks to the door.

There’s the nasty sound of the claws scratching the wooden surface.

Tyler aims the camera at the door.

“I’m gonna open it.”

A metal handle jiggles as something tries to find its way out from its trap.

“Tyler,” Josh exclaims almost happily. “You’ve installed a camera there, do you remember? Let’s go and check the laptop?”

Tyler freezes, retracting his hand from the doorframe.

“Um, fine,” he agrees. “Let’s…”

Josh doesn’t have a time to praise himself for his resourcefulness, because the door opens by itself, and the room _sucks_ Tyler in. Josh’s camera falls on the floor with a thud.

“Tyler!” Josh bawls. He begins to kick and smash and knock, but it seems that the door has turned to a concrete wall with a handle. “Tyler, can you hear me?!”

The skin on Josh’s knuckles cracks and begins to bleed, but it doesn’t stop him. He slams his shoulder into the hard wood, screaming and slapping and hitting the door, using all his weight.

He must get inside.

Josh has never been more determined.

Another punch sends the trickles of blood down the backs of his hands, but the door finally caves; Josh flies into the room like a hurricane only to be stopped by the horrendous picture.

They’re already here. _All of Them._

Three tall figures in the plain black robes surround a motionless Tyler. He’s lying on the floor, on his back, eyes closed. Two of Them are holding thick candles, and the third phantom is towering over Tyler and holding a sharp silver knife right above Tyler’s chest.

They’re just about to perform the ritual; Josh freezes in the doorframe, clutching the flashlight and thinking up the rescue plan. They’ve taken Tyler’s balaclava off, his skin looks sickly grey in the light of a candle flame. Tyler’s camera looks like it’s been gutted out.

They slowly turn Their masks to Josh.

The walls begin to bleed.

The smell of wax and metal permeates the air, settling down in Josh’s deflated lungs like an ash. The red liquid manure dribbles from the upper corners of the room, slipping down the panel walls, forming small puddles on the floor.

Josh’s first thought is to run to Tyler and try to shake him awake, but They block Josh’s path. Josh can already feel the sepulchral cold radiating off them, the blood splatters out of their empty eye sockets, drips off their mouths.

They’re humming, rising up Their abnormally long hands — scratch that — the _remains_ of their hands, the chunks of putrescent flesh peel off the bones and smack on the parquet with a hideous _swat_.

One of Them is still gripping the knife with its bony fingers.

Josh is going to be the next victim.

He looks down at his bleeding hands, looks around the bleeding room.

The walls are all bright red.

The smell goes more pungent, like gas and a burning plastic, there’s a specific crackle and the streams of smoke begin to fill up the hallway. Gradually, it replaces the stale air in the bedroom; Josh can feel the door behind his back grow hot from the fire.

Tyler breaks into a violent coughing fit.

The phantoms keep humming monotonically, becoming more tangible than a second ago.

Josh counts to one in his head and makes a dash through them, managing to bump into one of Them, knock the candle off Their hands; Their black robe flares up, the flame begins to lick the fabric.

Josh doesn’t look back, skidding to his knees in front of Tyler. He can’t stop coughing, trying to pull his hoodie over his nose.

“The house is on fire,” Josh wheezes, throat dry.

The fire bursts into the room, the smell of clotted blood makes Josh want to throw up; three figures swim towards him and Tyler. The only way to retire is the window with the blood-soaked frame.

Josh drags a semi-conscious Tyler across the floor towards the windowsill; Tyler barely coordinates himself as Josh helps him up to his feet and slams his hand on the rusted latch.

The window frame cracks open, the fresh air feels like heaven after breathing in the smoke. Josh can see the back yard and the crooked roof covering the small veranda below. If he gets down, he can catch Tyler there.

“I’ll jump first,” Josh exhales, throwing his leg over the windowsill. He feels the slippery slate under the bottom of his sneaker, holding onto the wet frame and getting out of the window.

Tyler is clumsy, he physically can’t move fast, but he follows Josh anyway; Josh just lets him sit down onto the slanted roof not to let him fall.

He still feels the evil hotness coming off his burning house, like Hell’s fire, as he creeps down the edge of the roof. It’s not that easy after the rain and the storm, but Josh’s instinct of self-preservation helps him not to break his back during his sick jump.

It’s probably not the best jump in Josh’s life; he falls and rips his jeans at the knees, collides with the rain-soaked grass, cursing the gravity once again. But he can definitely handle all these bruises and scrapes.

He pushes himself off the ground to stand near the veranda and stick his hands out.

“Tyler, jump!” he hollers.

Tyler’s silhouette looks black with the bright orange fire in the background. It’s about to set him aflame. “Tyler, come on, move!”

Tyler tries to make it down carefully but ends up stumbling and stopping himself by the edge of the roof.

The time is running out.

“Trust me,” Josh whispers.

Tyler jumps.

He lands with his hands on Josh’s shoulders, knocking the wind out of him and sending both of them down on the ground. Mindful of Tyler’s leg, Josh tries to soften the hit with his body, but Tyler smacks his right side on the ground anyway.

Josh doesn’t even have a second to take care of him as something explodes inside of the house, spitting out the window frame and the shards of glass. Josh throws his body on top of Tyler’s, pinning him down to the grass as the hot shower of splinters and other debris pours all over his hunched back.

Ignoring Tyler’s pained gasp, Josh grabs his upper arm and forces him to run away from the house, falling onto the lawn near the fence so the fire can’t hurt them. The roof above the veranda crashes down a few feet away from Josh and Tyler. Their legs are still intertwined together; Josh’s chest is pressed to Tyler’s back, and-

He’s shaking.

And weeping almost inaudibly.

“Sh, we’re safe now,” Josh shushes him.

“It hurts,” Tyler whines. “But you saved my life. But it hurts.”

Josh hates himself for it.

Josh shakes the soot and dust off his hair and body, his skinned knuckles are still bleeding, he has a busted lip. Tyler promptly wipes his tear-streaked cheeks and sniffs loudly, pressing his sleeve to his nose. Josh coughs up some phlegm and spits onto the grass between his knees.

The fire hasn’t subsided yet.

A shrilling siren of a fire engine makes Josh’s insides spiral up.

Everything _still_ smells like rotting meat.

There are small yellow drops of wax on the front of Tyler’s hoodie.

Josh isn’t sure whose blood is smudged down his tattooed shoulder.

“Alright,” Tyler concludes. “Your video was not a fake.”   

 

***

Two hours later, Josh’s life turns to an utter chaos; there’s his neighbors, the police, the firefighters and the ambulance, the uncontrollable flow of questions and four body bags lying in the front yard. People keep fussing around, inspecting the damaged house and saying something about the human remains being immured in the walls and in the basement.

One of the bodies is a child, Josh hears that from the distance, sitting on the sidewalk.

“I wanted to take a picture, but they pushed me out,” a familiar voice above Josh’s ear startles him.

“Well done,” Josh raises his head up lazily.

“They blame it on the gas cylinder explosion,” Tyler says, folding the crutches on the ground and sitting down next to Josh. “But they don’t know how to explain the bodies.”

“Yeah, I saw them,” Josh nods.

Tyler gnaws at his bottom lip.

“Are you scared now?”

“I don’t know.”

“You puked all over the mailbox.”

“You cried.”

“Whatever,” Tyler mumbles, turning away.

“How’s your leg?” Josh still feels guilty for hitting Tyler so hard. Twice.

“Not broken, but the paramedic gave me the crutches,” Tyler pats his knee and frowns. “Josh, do you remember the story about my car crash?”

“Sure.”

“Um, I didn’t tell you the real cause of the accident,” Tyler starts timidly. “There was that creepy girl, she just appeared right in front of my car, out of nowhere. Her face was covered in blood, I thought she’d been in an accident or something, and I tried to pull over, but she kept following my car. I tried to avoid the collision with her, and that’s why I lost control that night. I still remember her knocking down the windshield,” Tyler continues, keeping his head down. “She didn’t have a jaw, and her neck was twisted.”

Josh feels sick again.

“Was she… was she a ghost?”

“Who knows, Josh. Who knows,” Tyler looks up at the brightening sky.

It’s still cold after the storm.

Josh can’t stop shivering.

“Here,” Tyler takes his hoodie off and throws it over Josh’s shoulders.

Tyler’s green t-shirt is cute.

“No, take it back,” Josh refuses.

“You can keep it,” Tyler insists. “For saving my life.”

“Thank you.”

Josh doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life.

The pall falls off Josh’s eyes as he looks at Jenna’s house and he sees the peeled off brown panels and the boarded up windows. He grips at Tyler’s hand, exchanging puzzled glances.

Her house is abandoned.

Another piece of a big mystery.

Josh decides he is just hallucinating due to the shock and sleep deprivation.

 

***

Josh now has only one box with his things. With that tableware he didn’t find the time to unpack.

“Josh, don’t break it,” his Mom says as he shoves the box into the car trunk.

Josh doesn’t want to get back to Cleveland.

He’s adult enough to live alone. It’s not his fault his house was full of skeletons in closets. Literally. But it’s not his fault.

“Come on, J, get into the car,” Jordan says, getting into the driver’s seat.

Josh can see Tyler’s truck parked in the end of the street.

Jordan keeps shouting something while Josh hightails towards the familiar vehicle; he can’t leave Tyler without saying goodbye. Or he just can’t leave.

Tyler’s sitting on the hood of his truck, and it’s a sign.

“Tyler, I think I have to buy you a new laptop,” Josh gibbers out. “And security cameras. And a cane,” he adds, watching Tyler’s reaction.

“That’s so cute, Josh,” Tyler smirks. “That cane had saved my ass couple times. The assholes in New Jersey didn’t like me roaming the city in my floral kimono.”

“You’re from New Jersey?” Josh asks, confused.

“Yeah, from Newark,” Tyler nods. “Decided to change something when I recovered after the car accident. Just couldn’t stay there. And I started to make those videos to prove I’m not paranoid- I had to protect myself from the world. I just can’t wrap my mind over it.”

“I liked some of your videos,” Josh confesses.

“Good to know,” Tyler chuckles. “You know, when I first saw you I thought we were going to kill each other, because you’re so punk, with a tattoo and gauges, I don’t know. I thought you were my potential rival. And wow- now we’re talking like best friends.”

“I didn’t want to compete,” Josh explains. “I just wanted to get something done.”

“Yeah. I nearly got sacrificed for the Glory of some unknown shit,” Tyler’s body begins to vibrate. “I’m gonna get nightmares. I live alone, by the way, I’d offer you to stay in my house until you find something better, but your family is waiting.”

Josh’s mind goes blank.

“I have to talk to them,” Josh swallows anxiously.

“About what?”

“I’m not going back to Cleveland.”

 

***

Tyler’s house is not haunted. Because Tyler is _still_ pretty skeptical.

He has a piano and the withered flowers on the windowsill.

They have already washed away the blood and grim and currently sit on the couch in the living room; Tyler gave Josh his old basketball shorts and a t-shirt. It was nice.

“Do you have any explanations about what happened?”

“The realtor refused to tell me the story of the previous owners. I didn’t insist. The house was cheap, that’s all,” Josh frowns. “I heard there was an abandoned cemetery a few miles away from the living area. The phantoms in masks could be a part of some old cult, and the bodies in the wall could be their victims or something,” he says. “It’s such a good thing that the fire didn’t spread to the neighboring houses.”

“The journalists are gonna get you now,” Tyler warns. Then, his relaxed facial expression turns to a grimace of pain. “Muscle cramps,” he rubs his thigh with a hiss forced out through his gritted teeth. “Oh, shit.”

Tyler doesn’t try to slap Josh’s hands as he carefully places them on Tyler’s upper leg.

“Let me,” Josh’s fingers brush over the rigid muscles. “I won’t hurt you.”

Concerned, Josh touches the bony kneecap; Tyler tenses up again and wiggles his toe.

“What do you think about Jenna?” Josh asks.

“Well, if we’re talking about the paranormal shit, she was our guardian angel, I guess,” Tyler replies. “Her house, um, changed a lot.”

“I noticed that,” Josh nods, his fingertips press to the fabric of Tyler’s jeans. They’re probably too skinny for his swollen knee. “Sorry, but you need to take your pants off. It’ll make the massage more comfortable.”

“My leg looks like Chucky-doll’s face,” Tyler panics a little. 

“I like this movie,” Josh says unflappably.

Tyler sighs and unzips his jeans. He tugs them down.

There are three ragged scars on Tyler’s kneecap and four large ones cross his shin, the dots from the tip of the needle are still visible. Josh can see the way the wounds were stitched up: offhandedly, as if the surgeon wasn’t even trying to save Tyler’s leg. The skin there feels rough and violated, wide white lines remind Josh of the tapeworms.

“Looks wonderful, doesn’t it?” Tyler gestures down his leg.

“Not bad,” Josh utters.

“You were right, by the way,” Tyler mutters. “I haven’t had sex for ages. Last Halloween, I tried to hook up with a dude, but when I got naked and he saw the scars, he decided to get back with his ex-girlfriend.”

Josh hates his big mouth now.

He unhurriedly massages Tyler’s thigh — the only uninjured part of Tyler’s right leg — trying his best not to resurrect the ache.

Tyler closes his eyes.

“This feels really good,” he murmurs. “I like your hands.”

“I like your legs,” Josh compliments back.

“Thanks.”

Josh wishes his touches could fix Tyler’s mangled skin, could smooth the bumps on the bone. He keeps his hands on Tyler’s knee, still blue and bruised from the encounter in the bathroom. Tyler stretches, reaching his hands out above his head and arching his back with a faint moan. Josh didn’t think the massage could accidentally get Tyler hard, but somehow, it did.

Loose shorts don’t seem so loose anymore.

“Can I touch you?”

“You’re touching me.”

“No, I mean, like- _touch_ ,” Josh’s stare is glued to Tyler’s crotch.

“I can take care of it,” Tyler grumbles with no confidence in his voice.

“Really?”

“No,” Tyler groans out. “Cool, now I’m gonna come in my pants and embarrass myself in front of a hot guy.”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about it,” Josh soothes him.

Tyler nods.

Josh’s hand slips into Tyler’s already damp boxers.

Everything feels right in the oddest way.

Tyler spreads his legs and grips onto the duvet thrown over the couch; Josh’s shorts feel dangerously tight in his groin area, he thinks he’s going to have to deal with it later.

Tyler bucks his hips and begins to thrust into Josh’s fist as soon as Josh curls his fingers around his leaking cock. Tyler screws his eyes shut, the hint of blush blossoms all over his cheeks, even the tips of his ears turn a little red as Josh begins to stroke him in a lazy motion, not wanting to push him over the edge instantly.

Josh’s free hand slowly finds its way to his own erection.

He can’t believe he’s doing this.

When Tyler reaches the orgasm, his glossy eyes flutter open for a second; Josh feels a bit uneasy under Tyler’s bleared glance as he comes messily into Josh’s fist and onto the hem of his t-shirt.

“I said…” he takes a breath. “It was gonna be over…” another breath. “Quickly.”

“No, you did great,” Josh reassures him.

Josh yanks Tyler’s boxers back up.

He needs an excuse to go to bathroom.

Before the words manage to spill off Josh’s tongue, Tyler’s lips are pressed against his, slender fingers fumble with the ties on the basketball shorts, pulling them down along with his underwear and revealing his flushed cock.

Tyler doesn’t break the kiss as Josh pushes into Tyler’s hot palm, slick with sweat, and oh God it feels wonderful as Tyler keeps licking into his mouth, swallowing Josh’s gasps and groans. Josh’s abdominal muscles clench as Tyler jerks him faster, and finally, the tension resolves like an odd mix of pleasure and disbelieve piercing through Josh’s body.

Josh still can’t get the air back into his lungs when Tyler grins at him.

“See? I know a thing or two about sex,” he informs Josh while he’s sitting next to him with his a bit sticky shorts half-way down his thighs.

 

***

The next day, Josh gathers everything what’s left of his cash and buys Tyler a cane with a black shiny handle so he doesn’t have to use that ugly crutch.

 

***

The disturbing story about the mummified bodies in Josh’s house leaks all around the press, his YouTube channel becomes popular as much as Tyler’s. They didn’t have a chance to save their equipment from the fire, so Josh can’t upload any new videos despite the hundreds of comments below.    

He doesn’t talk to journalists, doesn’t do interviews.

He gets some of the money back, because the gas cylinder in his house was defective. The realtor apologizes.

Tyler keeps finding the fake videos on the YouTube and explain them; #tylershowusyourface is trending worldwide, but Tyler never responds those tweets.

And, despite the fact that they’re living together now, Josh isn’t going to unblock Tyler on Twitter.

Just for fun.

**Author's Note:**

> some of the channels/events mentioned in this fic are real (like Elastic Spastic Plastic Fantastic and the story about a homeless woman living between the walls)  
> \---  
> the idea of the phantoms comes from [ this video](http://heyjoshheytyler.tumblr.com/post/145496303171/dont-go-stay-here)


End file.
